Kate: Pounding Bodies: Part II

Kate: Pounding Bodies: Part II Kate: Pounding Bodies: Part II

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


As the flames of ardour roared furiously in the circle of our bound together bodies, Chris pounded me to an orgasm; a back arching, call his name out, scratch his back orgasm that had been building inside me all night.


As the flames of ardour roared furiously in the circle of our bound together bodies, Chris pounded me to an orgasm; a back arching, call his name out, scratch his back orgasm that had been building inside me all night.


Submitted: May 07, 2015

A A A | A A A


Submitted: May 07, 2015



After that initial release of our sexual desires we got dressed again for the dinner I had supposedly come here for.

Given he was here for a conference, Chris had asked to what extent I wanted to be insulated from the whole conference scene. While he wanted to take me to a nice dinner removed from the conference one, the practical question was whether I wanted to drop in on the pre-dinner cocktails first.

For me that was easy. I wanted to see more of the people he worked with. And so we wandered down to the conference ballroom and quickly found a circle of people mainly composed of Chris’s work associates. What immediately struck me was he seemed to be ten years younger than any of the others. The other thing I soon found out was that there was only one other partner in the group; a tall attractive woman in her thirties there with a husband of about the same age.

At least what the woman was wearing gave me comfort that I was only a little out of line in my own choice. Hers was a strappy mini cocktail dress, the v neck low enough that the edge of what had to have been a push up bra was visible along the neck hem of her dress and offered a truly impressive cleavage display.

Mine was just a little more mini relative to my height with the neck line plunging low enough to convince most of the guys trying to peek through the space of my under-boob that I wasn’t wearing any bra at all; although for maximum breast projection, I had my own trick garment in that area. The total effect was maybe more what you’d wear on the red carpet to make sure you got top billing in the next day’s news item than strictly corporate; still it was close enough.

And so I played my role as a good corporate WAG; charming, even flirting with the guys, engaging and bonding with the women and enhancing Chris’s reputation by cynically but subtly making every other guy in the circle was just a bit jealous of him. Of course the line you need to walk is a fine one. Not all his work colleges were men and you need to make sure the women are on your side too; and of course make sure the other WAG doesn’t start bad mouthing you to her husband the minute you’ve left.

But just having stood there for nearly an hour with my body in close contact with Chris’s had already left me thinking about our post dinner activities. It had been a long time since I’d seen him last but the effect – let’s be more honest and call it arousal - his mere physical presence had on me hadn’t diminished in the slightest. At least mine was invisible. His I could feel as we brushed against each other and there was nothing half-mast about it.

Dinner, delightful though the food might have been, was simply one long piece of verbal and flirty foreplay. At least I got his story of why he got a ticket to the event even though he was nothing more than a part timer uni student kept on from the summer clerkship programme; the managing director had needed to withdraw and gave Chris his ticket. It also explained his deluxe room.

But the food, even the wine, was a mere distraction. The sound of his voice, the easy reassuring humour of our conversation, the piercing intelligence of his eyes, the sculptured perfection of his body, the very aura of his presence; all reminded me of why Chris had imprinted himself so deeply into my sexual being during our week long fling. As I sat there absorbing the pleasure of his mere company every part of my sexual anatomy responded in its own demanding way; a clit swollen and throbbing for attention and a vagina that felt like it had opened into a cavernous lady boner that no amount of cock could fill.

In the elegance of this restaurant there was only so much I could do to give vent to my feelings. Above the table we were all very proper, each of us dedicating one hand to eating while – when knives could be dispensed with - the other reached across the table for the electric pleasure that even interlocked fingers offered. Below it we tried the usual games. For a short while I managed to raise a bare foot into Chris’s crutch and wrap my toes around the circumference of the erection in his pants; sliding my foot up and down its length to feel it surging in response.

But the table was small; the white cloth covering it barely rolled over the edge on the two sides on which we were sitting. With the rest of his family facing away from us, the middle aged father sitting with his family at the table behind Chris had barely been able to pull his eyes away from my cleavage for the whole time we’d been sitting there. As I spread my legs apart to move my knee out to let me get that foot between Chris’s thighs the way the father’s eyes nearly left their sockets made it clear he was getting a grandstand view straight up my crutch.

My dress was so short and had ridden up so much as I sat down, I could see my panties just looking down between the table and my stomach. With their thin material now dampened by my anticipation of our post dinner activities I had to wonder just how much he could see. Had the whole thing not been so uncomfortable I might have repositioned my napkin and just worried about Chris. But the truth was I quickly got a cramp; so Chris’s cock would have to wait until we finished.

As for Chris he tried to reciprocate, but his legs were even longer. At his first and only attempt he nearly knocked the table over.

On the way back to the room we had a quick pash in the lift, the security camera and shortness of the ride merely allowing me a chance to push the top of his trousered erection up under the hem of my dress and against the panty covering of my clit as we kissed.

Chris’s fumble with the security card which opened the door was the only additional delay between the lift opening and us rolling stripped to our undies with our bodies intertwined on the bed. One thing I’ve always liked about Chris is the way he delays the “I really want to stick my dick in you” moment most guys get to once they’ve got you like this. He willing to satisfy my need to savour a physical and emotional intimacy short of penetration.

But tonight that wasn’t enough. I was the one who needed penetration; who needed the feel of his impressive cock swallowed up inside me, the feel of my body embracing it and drowning it in my juices. With just enough willpower to comply with my own condom rules I peeled down the front of his undies to expose him, sheathed him, pulled the crutch of my own panties aside and anxiously immersed him within me.

Only then, with our bodies locked physically together, could I slow myself down and fully enjoy that mere sense of intimacy as we continued to pash as we rolled around on the bed. Only then could I slow myself down enough to just bathe in his physical presence.

For maybe ten minutes that was enough.

What moved us to the next level was me starting to pulse my pussy against Chris’s cock; tensing the muscles of my vagina against it like I was trying to suck it in deeper. That stirred up Chris to start pleasuring his cock inside me; gentle slow thrusting movements accompanied by soft little groans signifying the deepest pleasure. The fires of passions became lit inside us both again; but Chris wasn’t satisfied with how things were. For him we were still over-dressed for what he was about to unleash on me.

Withdrawing, he stripped me of my undies and dropped his to the floor. Then he took one of the hotel pillows and placed it under my bum as I lay on my back sprawled across the bed. In an instant he was back on top of me, inside me; arching over me as he looked down on my body and thrust his manhood within me.

The third time we had made love – the third time Chris had ever made love to anyone those long eight months ago – he’d experimented with a thrusting movement which tried to stimulate my clit with every thrust. He’d nearly succeeded then. Now he’d perfected the trick.

As the flames of ardour roared furiously in the circle of our bound together bodies, Chris pounded me to an orgasm; a back arching, call his name out, scratch his back orgasm that had been building inside me all night. Unwilling to stop there, he kept pounding; bending his body into an s-shape as he lent down to suck my nipples, taking me all to willingly to a second orgasm moments before his own climax broke in a rising crescendo of grunts and groans.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of me and let his body relax into my embrace as we kissed; still puffing from our exertions.

Yet for all their intensity, those two orgasms hadn’t yet filled my quota of need. Even as we lay there together those sparks of physical need that any contact with his person had always triggered in me were firing again. With the old full condom barely removed a fresh hard erection was already pushing into my stomach signalling Chris’s readiness to respond.

But this time we could be less intense; more loving and intimate than urgent and needy. This time I went on top; playing with his chest as I rode him cowgirl style, whipping him gently with my hand to encourage him to buck under me, lifting his head to my breast to have him stimulate my nipples as I enjoyed the sense of his capture in my bosom. This time took longer. This time we were more than just bodies fulfilling a physical need. This time we were two individuals spiritually and physically bound together. This time it was the journey, not the climax itself that counted, even if the climax was pretty good.

After this time we were spent; falling asleep still bound together.

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